There's Going To Be A Wedding

There is something exceedingly lovely about bridal shops.  Not only are they full of the most beautiful gowns--the fulfillment of years of a little girl's dreaming--but the very air seems full of hope and promise and future.  The day I went in, there was another bride finding her gown.  I could hear her and her friends laughing with excitement, and gasping with delight as the bride appeared like a fairy tale princess.

 I passed the fancy zippered bag  across the counter to the woman on the other side.  Both of us were avoiding each other's gaze, trying to pretend that this was only an everyday business transaction and that I wasn't handing over the symbol of my heart, of all my hopes and dreams, without even a second glance.  I hoped the other bride and her friends wouldn't see me.  There is an unexplainable shame, especially before other women, in a broken engagement.  No matter the reason, the question hangs like a weight in your chest--what is wrong with me?

In the months since my engagement was broken, there have been countless moments of pain I never imagined, but perhaps none is as poignant as the day that I returned my wedding gown.  My gown was so lovely--the loveliest of all. It was such a soft, delicate lace.  The back was sheer and embroidered so that it resembled a butterfly's wings.  It was simply ethereal.  On the day I found it, it was the first gown that I put on that I longed for my fiance to see me in.  I knew that he would love it, and I could just imagine the look on his face when he saw me.  I couldn't wait for him to see me wearing it.  I didn't want to take it off.

Then, suddenly, everything was over.  I was standing in the shop, turning my gown back in.  I would never wear it again.  He would never see me in it.  I didn't even get to show it to my mother.  There was no wedding.

There have been many, many days of hopelessness.  For me.  For a lot of people.  It often feels like there is nothing to look forward to, nothing worth living for.  The future stretches out endless, empty.  There is no one there.

My mom and dad have to remind me a lot to look again.  I still can't see through the shadows to the other side, but I am clinging to the promises of the One I know is there.  There is going to be a wedding.
 
"I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."' He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!' Then he said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'" (Revelation 21:1-5)

He has promised to come for His bride, the church, and He will always keep His promises for He is trustworthy and true.  He is preparing His bride (me and you, His beloved) to marry Him.  He has paid the highest price for our bridal gown, His own blood.  It will be the most beautiful gown, woven with gold and studded with jewels.  How it will delight Him to see His bride prepared for the wedding! This is an engagement that won't be broken.  

To all you brokenhearted, to you who cannot see your future, hold on.  Hold on to His promises.  There is going to be a wedding.  The Bridegroom will come.